


It's Tradition

by bipedalpanda (jbird181), jbird181



Series: A Series of Coincidences [1]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Cassandra Loves Holidays, Cassandra Loves To Bake, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Shipper!Ray, Slow Burn, Too much eggnog, bad singing, mutual crushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/bipedalpanda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/jbird181
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being stuck under mistletoe with the same person two times can be a coincidence. Three times is a bit of a stretch, but four times? There's a higher power at work here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Although it's still August, Panda has been feeling the holiday spirit lately, so here is an early Christmas gift from us to you. :)

I swear the mistletoe is following us. And not in the “Cassandra hung it everywhere in the Annex alongside tinsel and fairy lights” way, in the paranormal way. It’s gotten to the point where every time I see mistletoe, I feel the strangest urge to throw holy water at the plant and yell, “the power of Christ compels you!” The only thing stopping me is the not-crazy persona I’ve done my best to cultivate over the years.

The first time I saw it, Baird, Cassandra, Stone, and I were decorating the humongous tree Jenkins had somehow pulled out of one of the Library’s many rooms, at Cassandra’s request. I would take all four of us, Jenkins, and a magical ladder to get the star on the top, but I didn’t know that yet when the mistletoe appeared over my and Stone’s heads.

I swear it wasn’t there before I looked up! I grabbed an ornament and hung it as high as I could reach—no mistletoe. I looked down to grab another ornament, looked back up and BAM! Mistletoe!

“Wow, Cassandra, you’re a speedy decorator. I didn’t even see you hang that mistletoe.”

“I didn’t hang any mistletoe yet,” replied a puzzled Cassandra.

“Please don’t tell me we’re stuck in a holiday-themed horror movie,” groaned Baird.

“Revenge of the Mistletoe,” Stone tried, spreading his hands out as if he could see the trailer now. “What did you do to anger the holiday plant gods now, Jones?”

“I didn’t do anything especially bad… recently! May I point out that you’re underneath the cursed plant as well?”

Cassandra’s face broke into a grin so evil that even Dulaque would envy it. “I think that means you two are supposed to kiss.”

Stone laughed, a short, choked sound, and stepped back out of range of the mistletoe. I followed suit, maybe a little disappointed, but hey, what did I expect? Rom-com moments don’t happen to immoral thieves, and I’m perfectly okay with that. _Really_.  
…

I, for one, was willing to forget the entire mistletoe thing ever happened, but that demon plant reared its ugly head once more about a week later. I was helping Cassandra bake (read: stealing bites of cookie batter when she wasn’t looking), and she needed some more flour from the pantry. I swear, that girl bakes enough to feed a small army. I was going to get her some when I bumped into Stone, with, surprise surprise, a pile of books tucked under his arm.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to read and walk?” I grumbled, helping him pick up his scattered tomes. I took the opportunity to eye his arms as I handed him one of gigantic books. “There’s this amazing new invention called ebooks, have you ever heard of it?”

“It’s not the same, Jones.”

I had another witty comment ready, but it died in my throat when I happened to glance up and see mistletoe dangling innocently above our heads once more. I could hear Stone blathering on about the pros of paper books, but I was a little busy searching for a memory of seeing mistletoe above any of the other Librarians. Zip. But two times can be a coincidence. Two times doesn’t mean homicidal spirit trapped in a plant. I need to stop watching so many horror movies.

I handed Stone the last 50-pound-monster and cut his rant short with a, “sorry, Cassandra’s waiting for me,” and then definitely did not run away.

It was a leisurely fast-walk, thank you very much.  
…

Two times can be a coincidence, but three? The five of us (excluding Flynn), were returning from holiday shopping. Stone and I were first through the Backdoor, and, swaying ominously in the slight draft from the door, was a sprig of mistletoe! I was going to make a joke about the plant being possessed, but when I met Stone’s eyes… They way he was looking at me, curious, vulnerable, his arms full of packages, his lips parted ever so slightly as if he were about to speak as well… Well, I thought he might kiss me.

...Until Cassandra barreled through the door into me, knocking me down into a not-so-romantic kiss with the floor. By the time I stood up and brushed myself off, inspecting my bags for any damage, the moment was broken.

“Oh my gosh, Ezekiel, I’m so sorry!” gushed Cassandra.

“Maybe he’ll learn not to stand in the doorway,” added Jenkins, unhelpfully.

“Don’t worry about it, Cassandra, I’m fine, I mean it,” I reassured her. Colonel Baird took my bags out of my hands. “I'm fine... hey, no peeking!”

…..

The eggnog must've been spiked, because I can't stop smiling. I bet Jenkins did it. There's no way the contended, buzzy feeling I'm wrapped in can come from only being with my family in front of the fireplace crackling, dare I say it, merrily, a delicious glass of eggnog to sip, and reruns of old holiday movies that are new to me. There’s no way I'm just happy to be squished between Stone and Cassandra, my best friends, laughing and occasionally singing out-of-tune Christmas carols and even the occasional Hanukkah tune if we run out of Christmas songs. Even Flynn deemed Christmas Eve important enough to come home for, apparently, and I can tell that some of the others are happy to have him, even if I'm still a little bitter about him never sticking around to actually become a part of my family, just like my biological father. But I won't dwell on that tonight.

I will not let bad memories ruin my chances of a happy present. Speaking of presents… There’s a large one front and center under the tree that seems to be calling my name. I'd go check it out if I weren't perfectly aware that Eve would drag me away as soon as I got within twenty feet of it.

_Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ switches to a commercial break-- _but don't go anywhere, we’ll be right back!_ \--and I make a decision. It's a difficult one, because I'm so comfortable, but I think it’ll pay off.

I take a deep breath and shift my weight so I'm sitting on the edge of the couch.

“I’m going to get some more eggnog, does anybody else want some?”

There's a chorus of no thanks from around the room, and a groan from Flynn that I assume means no as well, so I stand up and make my way to the kitchen.

I’m filling my glass to the tippy top when I hear footsteps behind me.

“Can you pour me some too?” Stone is wearing the bright red sweater Cassandra insisted he wear (yes, I'm wearing one as well; it's green and I look fabulous if I do say so myself), and his hair is a little mussed from leaning back into the couch cushions.

“Sure,” I say, the epitome of composure. I take his glass and set it on the counter with a quiet clink. I go to fill it up, but Stone is pointing to the ceiling with an amused look on his face.

“Mistletoe.”

Indeed, the Ghost of Mistletoe Past is hounding us once more. “Again? That’s the fourth time!” I throw my hands up in the air, feeling a moment of pure terror before realizing that yes, I did close the carton of eggnog.  
Thank goodness.

I set the carton down gingerly.

“Maybe it's a sign, y’know,” Stone elaborates, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“A hint from some higher power?” I snort, to cover up my nerves, but Stone isn't laughing.

He licks his lips. “Yeah.”

Everyone else is in the other room, distracted by another rendition of _Sleigh Ride_. The cheery atmosphere couldn't be more perfect. I'm warm inside and out and Stone is all adorably rumpled and basically offering to kiss me. All that’s missing is the silver platter.

I'd be a fool not to take the opportunity.

“Well, it is tradition, after all,” I concede, stepping closer.

His eyes go all crinkly. “Merry Christmas, Ezekiel.”

He puts one hand on my cheek and I stretch up just a bit to meet him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Stone’s other hand is warm on my hip, his lips warm on mine, everything is warm, warm, warm, and there's a bubbly feeling rising up inside me that is not related to the eggnog. I can't stop laughing as we break away, letting my chest press against his. I want to stretch out the moment as long as possible.

“The others are probably wondering what we’re getting up to,” Stone points out quietly. I can feel his chest vibrate as he speaks. I squeeze him tighter for a second before letting go and agreeing.

I'm filing every second away in case this is a one-time thing, fueled by eggnog and the holiday spirit.

I needn’t have worried though, because we barely take two steps before the mistletoe appears back above our heads. “That is not normal,” I manage to get out before I'm kissing him again, and then again, even when the mistletoe disappears as mysteriously as it appeared.

Somehow, I had a feeling that we would last even without the sugar and firelight.  
…

“Took them long enough,” grins Ray, shelving the mistletoe away for later. It seems like it’s no longer necessary.

 


End file.
